Page 79 of Reverb
He could at least inspect the pit and the space between it and the stage. He ignored the fact that Heydel was entirely correct—it wasn’t professional to be sleeping with Mish. Getting close—being her boyfriend.
By the time he’d surveyed the pit, Heydel was nowhere to be found. “Shit,” he muttered, and headed backstage to find Marcella.
He found her with Adrian in a room adjacent the one the band had retreated into. When he relayed the conversation he’d had with Heydel, Marcella patted his arm. “We’ll work out a statement. Don’t let her get to you.”
“Also,” Adrian said, “general consensus is that you’re smoking hot and the only bad thing about you dating Mish is that it means you’re off the market.”
Embarrassment wove through David. “Smoking hot?”
“Mmmhmm.” Adrian flipped through his phone, then held it out to him. On it was a photo of him from their evening outing.
He looked like a movie star. Or rock star. “This is—Well, shit.”
“Yeah, I know,” Adrian said. “I’m not used to it, to be honest.” His shoulders dropped. “I mean, I’m a nerd at heart, but everyone treats me like some kind of heartthrob.”
“You guys need to fucking look at yourselves in the mirror sometime.” Marcella went back to scrolling through her own phone.
David bit back his reply, because it sounded suspiciously like something Adrian might dissemble—which proved both their points. So he shifted gears. “Band doing all right?”
“Oh yeah.” Adrian tucked his phone away. “They’re a bunch of little matches next to a can of kerosene, just waiting to burst into flame.”
David laughed from the absurdity and accuracy of that image. “Well, I suppose that’s good.”
“As long as they don’t burn anything down for real, or burn themselves out,” Marcella said.
“I don’t think they could ever burn themselves out.” Adrian looked rueful. “They’ve a ton of energy and I have a feeling they’re only starting to use it.”
Good. Something fantastic needed to come from this damn mess.
For the concert, Mish chose to wear her neon-pink fishnets again, and her short black leather skirt with a fuchsia corset and a jacket that matched the skirt. She also pulled out heels that made her two inches taller. She applied makeup that curled her toes and made her feel fantastic about herself, and added silver jewelry to remind her of the stars and her mom.
Fuck that damn man. She would dress sexy and sharp and use every ounce of that on stage. If Ray could prance around topless in leather pants that left nothing to the imagination, then she could wear her damn tights. No one got on their cases for their stage clothing choices—or lack of clothing.
Besides, she feltgoodin her outfits. That was thepointof clothing—an expression of who you were and a way to confront the world with power and love. That’s who she’d always been on stage, both for herself and the fans.
Two Times Strong kicked ass during their performance, getting the crowd on its feet and dancing. The vibe was already incredible, but when Twisted Wishes ran out on stage, the audience erupted into sound and movement. They’d shaken up their entire concert set, this time starting off with “Your Only Shot”—a loud, hard-pumping anthem about the ecstasy of being your own person. They were all near the front of the stage, even Zavier on a set of standing drums he somehow managed to play while bouncing around nearly as much as Ray.
Mish flew across the stage, dancing, wheeling, and playing, pausing at a mic to lend her voice to Ray’s during the chorus. From that song, they slid straight into “Dreams unto You,” a fan favorite that had everyone screaming.
Outstretched hands waved at Mish as she stalked up to the edge. She glimpsed smiles, even tears from some of the folks in the front row.
It was fucking heaven, and they were only two songs in.
By the time they made it to “Finding Light,” Mish had stripped off her jacket and was flush with joy and excitement, soaking up the energy of the crowed, then throwing it right back at them.
She grinned at Ray, then unslung the bass from her shoulder.
Oh, the confusion in the crowd, the absolute sense of anticipation, as if they were all holding their breaths.
Ray always claimed he couldn’t play their instruments, which wasn’t true. He’d taught himself over time. He wasn’t quite as good at their parts as they were or as versed. But he could play pretty darn well if he needed to.
And tonight, he’d need to, at least for this one. They’d decided during the bus ride that Ray and Mish would switch places.
When she handed off her bass to Ray, she leveled a look at him. “You take good care of her, kiddo.”
Ray laughed. “If I don’t, have Zav beat me later.”
There wasn’t any time for a snappy comeback. The audience reaction overwhelmed them, even through their ear protection.
